A shabby attic.
Even though the house's owner was very careful and patiently cleaned up all the dust, and the things in the room were arranged neatly enough, Viktor could still tell that no one had lived here for a long time.
When his feet stepped onto the floor, the old wooden boards creaked, as if they couldn't handle the weight.
There was a glass of water on the bedside table.
He looked down at his chest, wrapped in a clean white bandage, his right arm was suspended by a splint and plaster across his chest. He pushed open the old wooden door with his left hand, and a faint, musty smell filled his nose.
As he slowly descended the stairs of the attic, Viktor once again felt the gravity beneath him.
This is Earth.
It's not the Earth he used to know. In some ways, it might even be more dangerous than Viltrum's Great Purge at least this was Earth.
There wouldn't be cold-hearted or angry instructors forcing him to fight and kill his comrades. There wouldn't be a situation where he'd be thrown into an ugly alien beast's cage and forced to fight for his life.
He also wouldn't be forced to follow his squad and massacre billions of innocent lives, simply because those civilizations kept fighting back bravely and wouldn't give up.
Fortunately, the brutal survival rules he understood at the age of five did not help him forget the peaceful and stable life he had lived for over twenty years.
A slightly distant memory flashed by, and Viktor raised his still-intact arm, pinching his cheeks.
The living room on the first floor wasn't empty.
In addition to the old sofa and vintage television set, there was a row of quite old farming tools neatly placed along the wall: a few hoes, an iron rake, a sickle hanging on the wooden wall, and a straw hat.
Viktor's gaze lingered on the straw hat for a moment.
Though his consciousness had nearly faded before he passed out, Viktor was sure he hadn't made a mistake.
"…Wait. With THAT guy around, how is Earth listed as 'vacation level' in the Viltrum database?"
He felt somewhat numb. Throughout the journey, in order to prevent his injuries from worsening, Victor had been in a cryogenic sleep state.
After waking up, he hadn't had the chance to check the escape pod's navigation logs.
"It's another dimension? Or wait… is this actually some mixed-up comic world??"
Back when he was frantically trying to note down Earth's coordinates, Victor hadn't had the time to check the Viltrum database for a planet called Krypton in this universe.
Theoretically, it shouldn't exist.
If there was a race that could stand as a rival to Viltrumites under the yellow sun's radiation, they should have known this back in the day.
A species capable of threatening Viltrumite was a topic that would be covered in the mandatory classes. Even civilizations weaker than Viltrum were given special mention, let alone Krypton.
He gazed at the house around him, starting to think about his current situation.
'I hadn't been captured. The others probably thought of me as some kind of alien refugee, but why was the place I'm in so simple?'
He heard the sound of waves not far away and followed the sound. Through the window, Viktor could see sunlight and an endless sea.
Even if he were an alien refugee, Viktor shouldn't be housed in a lonely house by the sea. They'd at least put him in a Justice Hall or a Watchtower for monitoring.
The sound of waves crashing against the rocks echoed continuously, mixed with the soft breeze whistling through the window, bringing a bit of life to the quiet attic.
He leaned against the window, his fingers brushing against the cool glass, his gaze fixed on the distant line where the sea met the sky.
He needed to quickly figure out the current time, his location, and who that man with the "S" symbol was.
The Viltrumite's physiology allowed him to recover faster than most, and although his injuries weren't fully healed, basic movements were no longer a problem.
He moved his left leg a little, feeling the slight soreness in his muscles, then leaned on the wall and slowly walked to the center of the living room.
Next to the old television was a peeling wooden cabinet, with a small copper lock hanging on the cabinet door.
He tried to gently pry it open with his left hand, and the copper lock snapped with ease.
Inside the cabinet were neatly folded old clothes and a yellowed diary. He picked up the diary, his fingertips brushing over the rough pages, and opened the first page.
The handwriting was somewhat rough, and it's all about daily matters.
"Today, the winds and waves at the beach were very strong, and the fishing net broke again. I'll have to fix it tomorrow."
"Mrs. Jane from next door sent over a bowl of seafood soup. It tasted really good."
"The radio said something strange happened in the city. There are people who can fly. I hope it doesn't affect the beach."
He quickly flipped through the diary, and with each page, his heart grew heavier.
The diary spanned only six months, with the latest entry from three days ago: "Today, I found an injured seabird. I hope it gets better soon."
There was no mention of anything related to "superheroes" or "aliens." The only relevant part was the phrase "people who can fly."
He couldn't help but fall into confusion.
The "S" symbol, the ability to fly in space, and the bio-field he vaguely heard before losing consciousness.
'Did Superman save me?'
Suddenly, a faint sound caught Viktor's ears.
He quickly put the diary back in place, instinctively kicking the broken copper lock under the sofa. The next second, the wooden door of the attic gently opened, and a middle-aged man wearing a blue work uniform walked in.
The man was tall, his skin was rough, and his face bore the weathered lines of someone who had been out in the sea breeze for too long.
After seeing Viktor standing in the center of the living room, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a gentle smile.
"You're awake?"
The man's voice was low and hoarse with tiredness.
"How are you feeling?"
Viktor immediately tensed up, his left hand subtly clenching, and the remaining strength in his body began to gather quickly.
He didn't speak, instead keeping a vigilant watch on the man, trying to assess any signs of hostility from his expression and movements.
The man seemed to notice his wariness. He stopped in his tracks, raising both hands in a gesture to show he meant no harm.
"Don't be afraid, I'm not gonna hurt you.... It was Superman who brought you here. He said you were badly injured and needed a quiet place to rest."
He remained tense.
Though the mention of Superman did bring a slight sense of relief to his heart, Viktor knew he still had to continue pretending until he fully understood the situation in this world.
As someone who was basically an "alien," Viktor probably had some understanding...
If that was truly Superman, then in a significant number of alien civilizations, Superman was known for his incredible reputation. However, this only made him more serious in examining the specific situation of this world.
During the years he spent on Viltrum, Viktor had never heard of Superman existing on Earth in this universe.
'Where exactly am I now?'
'What universe was this?'